I'm pretty sure you're supposed to buy a new toothbrush every three months - at least that's what the manufacturers and their lap dogs the British Dental Association tell us. Although, I think I can stretch a few more months out of my toothbrushes as, despite the fact that I brush my teeth about four times a day, they remain pretty much in pristine condition. Some people's toothbrushes seem hell bent on giving us their own special interpretation of the parting of the Red Sea; the bristles lying almost flat out in anticipation of Charlton Heston's crossing. But not mine.
Anyway, buying a new toothbrush had been on my list of 'Things I need more urgently than a Mulberry handbag' for a few months now. It was number 632, I think. Having been somewhat sidetracked in my endeavors thus far, i.e. kept forgetting, didn't visit supermarket for three weeks as had enough tins of baked beans to survive, etc, etc, I eventually got round to it this weekend. Whilst ambling round Sainsburys I remembered and made a sudden 90 degree turn into the dental hygiene aisle. The other shoppers were not impressed and looked like they were fighting the temptation to commit a bit of trolley rage.
Arriving in front of the toothbrushes, the first thing I noticed was that there were millions of them. I'm not kidding. They took up almost half of the entire aisle. Trying to remain calm (muchness scares me), I began to scan my options. I could go by brand; Sainsburys, Oral B, Reach, Colgate, Aquafresh, Sensodyne, and probably Nestle too if I read the small print and followed the audit trail; or by price: 99p to £6.99. £6.99? £6.99? For a toothbrush? £6.99 for a toothbrush?; or by features 'n' functions; plaque control, whitening, gum stimulation, tongue scrubbing, tooth-picking, pulsating; or by colour, firmness or good old lucky dip.
When did it all get so massive? I felt like shouting out 'I just want a toothbrush. Why are you making this decision so hard and time consuming for me?' I think it was the first time I'd ever wished I lived in a Communist country. But saying these words out loud would render me a total fraud because I don't just want a toothbrush. The souless marketeers have me right where they need me. When faced with all this choice, of course I don't just want a toothbrush. I want a life-enhancing, oral hygiene product. And I want it to be firm. And I want it in pink, but not that pink, no no, I want it in that pink. Yes, that's right. Thank you.
In the end it came down to a choice between two almost identical brushes. Each had thickened rubber gum massaging bristles (in pink) on the outside. Three different types (and with different purposes) of bristle in the inside as well as a 'whitening circle' of bristles at the head of the brush. Each also offered a built-in tongue cleaner. The only difference was in the price. The Oral B option was £6.99 and the Reach one was £4.50. This is the kind of decision I like.
'Lisa, you can have this item for £6.99 or you can have the same item for £2.49 less.'
Duh, even I in my brainwashed consumerist state can work this one out.
I felt rather pleased with myself, and life in general, as I walked home with my Reach toothbrush nestling inside my shopping bag. Then I experienced mild anger as I reminded myself that I'd just spent £4.50 on a fucking toothbrush. Four pounds fucking fifty? On a toothbrush? Then I brushed my teeth, for like 12 minutes, and my new toothbrush was really, really good.
And after all, I always squeeze an extra couple of months out of my toothbrushes anyway, so I'm the real winner right?
Right? ... Hello? ... You guys? ... Right?
Sunday, April 09, 2006
The art of ... choosing a toothbrush.
Labels:
dentistry,
examples of stupidity,
financial setbacks,
shopping
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2 comments:
Why don't you go to boots next time? They usually have buy-one-get-one-free and thus you might make an even more remarkable saving on the over-priced bit of plastic.
Or you could do as the Romans did and use a sappling twig - they're free and can be found in abundance at this time of year.
Personally, I prefer the Sensodyne-massage-vibrate-life-enhancing battery powered ones - a snatch at £49.99.
Ha. £49.99? For a toothbrush? I know it vibrates and you may have seen this as an added benefit (an entirely different product if you will) but you really shouldn't combine these two things - it's totally not hygienic! Kinda like Columbo - you know it can do the job unbelievably well but it just doesn't seem very clean.
I feel comforted in the knowledge that you're a bigger consumerist fool than I am. Cheers.
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